[There's an old man dressed in rags wandering the trees of the Southern District. He looks tired, sick, and confused, and stumbles on a branch, nearly falling. Finally he leans heavily against a thick tree before sliding down its trunk, sitting to rest comfortably at its roots. The tree is a kindly one and situates itself so that the old man may
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Apparently there's a nightmare monster in the sky and robots can do magic. That is about all I know.
[He sounds frustrated and annoyed .]
Why?
What do you need?
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I don't know. Perhaps it's better I not know, as I'm hardly in any state to retrieve it.
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[Eyes roll under metal.]
I can see that.
Any idea, though?
Where are you, anyway?
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When he catches sight of the figure in familiar clothes he's set to keep moving along until he hears his plea. So he stops next to the tree, though he purposely makes noise, for once, to alert the man to his presence.]
You're in Nautilus. Do you remember it?
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[He closes his eyes.]
The name... reminds me of days long past recollection. Every time a memory taunts me with its presence it slips from my grasp before I can hold it.
Tell me, who are you, that you'd wander these woods dressed in such a manner?
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